


out of the depths

by cawnflour (orphan_account)



Category: Splatoon
Genre: (duh), First Person Agent 8, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, NB Agent 3, NB Agent 8, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, Psychosis, it’s my fic so i get to choose the content, just agent 8 working through their issues, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cawnflour
Summary: My smile is judged from every sideTry to voice words, but none are heardIllusions ripe, no place to hide————An excuse for me to write mem cake poetry and talk about Agent 8 learning to cope with trauma.
Relationships: Agent 8 & New Squidbeak Splatoon, Queerplatonic Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Kudos: 6





	out of the depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awoken warm, the day is new
> 
> To all these sighs I close my eyes
> 
> I’m glad I woke up next to you

There are days when nothing feels like it’s in place; you drink, you eat, but it’s unsatisfying, so I don’t. I sling my ink tank and loaned Splattershot over my shoulder as I listen to them whistle low, angrily, at misplaced keys. A few more minutes and we’re out. The apartment we live in is small and smells of dry ink, but anything beats old, leather metro seating, with its metallic and salty taste.

On the train to Inkopolis I stare quietly at the floor as my partner texts their sibling to confirm a meeting spot. That’s right, we’ve found sponsors for our turf wars- many senior jellyfish were eager to throw their money our way once they were told we were acquainted with the Squid Sisters. It’s been a while since I’ve been on this train. The patterned, pink seating houses all sorts of travelers. Many jellies, out with their families. A few professional looking, tall jellies are seated across from me. To the left are some older inklings, art students by the looks of it. Playing with colours from such a young age meant the industry was full of them, and that was all well and good. Jellyfish are more versatile and focused workers, they pride themselves in work ethic over emotional expression and typical rebellious attitude. I catch one looking over curiously and pointedly stare at my phone, face flushed. Certainly, octolings are a rare sight for children like these, even in the proudly ‘diverse’ central inkopolis. I hope they stop looking.

A garbled, automated voice rings somewhere distantly and my partner seizes my hand and holds the door open long enough to accommodate my distant mood, letting me out onto the station. They stare at me, concerned, and mouth a question before I brush my tentacles from my face and smile gently. That seems to satisfy them. We make our way to the central plaza, where we’ll be given our site details and ability stamps, as well as meet up with our companion. Who would have thought, three young adults with dated military experience taking part in a sport such as turf war. 

We meet with Agent 4 in the plaza.

They seem like they’re doing well for themselves. Generally cheery, and sporting a new top: Zekko brand, most likely. They seem to favour it. I’m more of an Enperry octo.

Our site is Port Mackerel for this round, which isn’t bad in the slightest. I wouldn’t say I enjoy the sport, but as an outing, it could be worse. Better than my partner’s genius idea to bring an illegal inkstrike from the Octo Canyon shack into our apartment for storing. Even better than their plans to modify it with information gathered from Sheldon. I didn’t know you could gain so much engineering experience just from listening to the guy... maybe I should start.

We bribed Judd not to insist on scoring us and all laid onto the same team. This way, we can beat the shit out of one another without having to witness our friends explode into nothing but a pool of colour. Most of the New Squidbeak Splatoon didn’t mind it, but it always made Callie and I squeamish, so we made a habit of setting our teams this way.

At the swing of a flag I began to feel ill. I’d forgotten to eat with my medication, which always worsened the nausea. I stood still a while, feeling dizzy, before catching up with the other two who were standing a few paces away, attempting to trade bombs away from prying feline eyes. I grinned a little to myself and called out to them, before ducking into an ink hurling catfight. There was no objective, just to annoy one another. We could play the sport normally afterwards.

When the sun began to wink over short surrounding buildings 4 and I decided to league up for a rainmaker match. I was feeling decidedly better now, especially after discovering how to throw ink out of bounds. It was a pointless victory, but always interesting. My partner decided to find Crusty Sean for the meantime- they would find us after the battle had ended. I had a good rank, so we both checked into next league game and waited.

We were paired with two inkling boys, who were no older than 15, and opposing was a full team of Tenta Camo Brellas in ‘Moist’ gear. We grabbed the rainmaker from its spot, and I noted the opposing team charging their specials. Fuck it, life’s too short. I gestured the rainmaker to be passed to me and treaded my way towards their podium.

At about 30 paces away, my eyeline was dominated by four enourmous stamps, and I respawned a moment later. I swam back to where my team was recovering. I readied my splattershot and broke the rainmaker’s shield, letting one of my teammates bring it closer.

At about 30 paces away, my eyeline was dominated by four enourmous stamps, and I respawned a moment later. I swam back to where my team was recovering. I readied my splattershot and broke the rainmaker’s shield, letting one of my teammates bring it closer. I respawned.

I blinked pointedly. Gross. What was that? I walked back into battle, which was now closer to my end; a minute later, the battle ended. We’d won, thankfully. 4 shot me an unreadable look and bit on their thumb. Oh well.

Crusty Sean’s was... typical. Greasy but enjoyable. My partner and 4 made easy conversation that I joined in occasionally. Cap’n had beaten Pearl in a game of Squid Smash: Brawl and she was saltier than a bowl of, well, salt. It was good to know that everybody was doing ok. Marina had had a run-in with paparazzi, Callie and Marie’s albums had been voted as the best of the last half-century. Off the Hook were asked to do modelling for Toni Kensa. 4, actually, had been working with Spyke to feedback the latest trends and fashion phenomenons. My partner thought it was hilarious- they’d not been doing anything so fashionable. They’d largely been managing finances for the Squid Sisters, from home. The computer lifestyle seemed to suit them better. Neither they nor I were a fan of other people.

Conversations like these made me wonder what I should be doing. I had tried to hold jobs but they’d all slowly become overwhelming. My partner had been completely solid those few rocky years. They worked more jobs to keep us running, and had nobly refused to receive money from Callie and Marie. I wish they had given in to that. Seeing them so exhausted all that time strained me, but they insisted it was fine. I was now working for Jelfonzo, stocking shelves. It wasn’t dreamlike but it was something. My partner was so glad to hear that I’d found something I could manage. I felt it shouldn’t have been such an achievement, to be a regular member of society. Then again, I wasn’t a regular member of society for the majority of my years. 

As we went home and said our goodbyes I sat quietly, again. Murmuring, impressed, my partner showed me articles on their phone they found interesting. Then they asked me if I was feeling ok. I said I was tired. I didn’t mention the whistling that I’d begun to hear. I shifted uncomfortably for the first few minutes of it, before processing some strange looks and choosing to tough it out. I saw a small jelly walk past and bump my leg and I became conscious of the lurking feeling of a false reality. I hated that feeling. It came when I was physically tired or otherwise drained. I held my partner’s hand and closed my eyes until our stop came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please give kudos or comments if you enjoyed. it's a multi-chapter work and we're going to need all the motivation we can get. thanks for reading!


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